Friday, February 6, 2009

Don't call it Frisco!

I was advised by my dear friend and former colleague Evan Goldin, a life-long Bay Area resident (except for his 4 years at Penn) to never refer to San Francisco as "San Fran" or "Frisco." Only "the city" or "SF" are legitimate abbreviations for this town. This took me by surprise, as Jack Kerouac called it Frisco no less than six dozen times in On The Road, and he seems like he'd be an authority on the art of nomenclature. But since I can't consult with Jack from beyond the grade, I guess I'll have to listen to my former editor instead.

Linguistics aside, I left the City of Angels two days ago, and arrived promptly in SF's Inner Richmond district by 1:30. The trip up the I-5 was smooth and uneventful, save for my early inability to keep the trunk of the RSX closed at the start of my journey and my two near-heart attacks when California Highway Patrolman quickly entered the road from the median immediately after I passed, each time to nab some other hardened speedster, and thankfully not me.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I love the Bay Area. It is everything that L.A. is not. Less pollution. Nicer people. Better weather (for my liking). Shorter commutes. Good public transportation. All in all, it's a great quality of life.

I moved into the apartment of my good friend from Birthright, Mike Fiebach. The apartment is great, because it's just 1.5 blocks from Geary, a wide boulevard that runs the length of the city that's filled with my three favorite urban necessities: shops, eateries, and people.

Some of you may know that I recently contemplated teaching English in China. I no longer have this dream, as I now live half a block from Clement Street, which is a pan-Asian enclave in the middle of SF. I can literally walk out my door and find myself with a choice of 500 Asian restaurants, bakeries, markets, and specialty shops. I already went on a dim sum crawl, trying small dishes at a half dozen of the places at my doorstep.

Immediately after my arrival, I did a Masta Cleanse of the room that I'm living in, as it had enough dust to nearly kill me. Other than these particle issues (and the fact that the security conscious dude I'm subletting from keeps a shredder, ax, and massive doorstop in his room for protection), everything was perfect. Soon, this will be home.

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